


Mr. Queen

by SwiftEmera



Series: Olivarry Week 2015 [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: D/s, Dom!Oliver, M/M, Rough Sex, Sub!Barry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:06:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5042323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwiftEmera/pseuds/SwiftEmera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are so many amazing things that Barry could name about having Oliver Queen as his boyfriend. One of those things is that Oliver always seems to know exactly what Barry needs – and, well, as Barry’s Dom it’s his job. He always knows when to be gentle with Barry and when he needs to be a bit on the rougher side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Olivarry Week Day Four: Free Day

There are so many amazing things that Barry could name about having Oliver Queen as his boyfriend. One of those things is that Oliver always seems to know _exactly_ what Barry needs – and, well, as Barry’s Dom it’s his job. He always knows when to be gentle with Barry and when he needs to be a bit on the rougher side.

Like right now.

Barry kneels on the floor before his Dom obediently – head bowed towards the ground, hands clasped in front of him, waiting for Oliver to give him an order or indicate what he wants Barry to do. He begins to wonder if Oliver's maybe waiting it out - testing him to see how long he'll stay like that for – when he  feels fingers trail through his hair gently, almost caressing him, before they close around the strands and tug roughly so that his eyes snap up to meet Oliver's, who is watching him with a hardened gaze.

“Who do you belong to, Barry?”

Barry licks his lips, not daring to avert his eyes from the older man. “You.” He gasps out. “I belong to you, Mr. Queen.”

Oliver nods his head – an approval of Barry’s obedience. “Good boy.” He steps closer and presses Barry’s face against his hip., and lets out a sigh as Barry nuzzles against him – it’s making him hard already. He pulls Barry’s head sharply away from his hips, ignoring the small sound of protest that Barry makes. “I want you naked and pressed against the wall.” He orders. “ _Now_.”

Barry swallows and clambers hastily to his feet. He keeps his eyes down – gazing respectfully at the floor – as he strips his clothes off. He shivers when he feels Oliver’s eyes sweep over him and he’s fairly sure he hears a hum of appreciation before he turns around and presses his front against the wall. He shivers. The wall is cold against him, his skin already flushing with arousal.

He turns his head and exhales, pressing his right cheek flat against the wall. He’s not sure how many minutes pass by while he’s standing there, waiting for his Dom to come and claim him, to come _use_ him.

He lets out a small whimper when Oliver presses up against him. And _god._ Oliver left his Arrow suit on. Barry whines when Oliver runs his leather clad body against Barry’s naked back. It’s such a turn on, for Barry, to be completely at Oliver’s mercy. Ready for anything. Ready to _take_ anything.

He feels Oliver's breath ghost the back of his neck, and Barry suppresses a shudder as Oliver's fingers trail down his sides, moving to rest over his hips. Oliver's erection presses against him through the leather, grinding, and a soft groan escapes Barry's lips.

" _Fuck_ , listen to you. So desperate for me, aren't you, Barry?"

"Y-yes, sir," Barry whimpers, trying not to grind his hips back for more friction. He knows that Oliver won't like it if he does - he'll take what he gets, when he gets it. Nothing more, nothing less.

When Oliver's heat leaves him entirely, he bites down on his bottom lip to stop himself from letting out a whine, but his heart gives a hopeful jolt when he hears the familiar pop of a lube cap sound out behind him.

"Gonna open you up," Oliver tells him, his voice gone rough and scratchy, the way it does when Oliver's either pissed off, or desperately horny - and Barry's willing to bet it's the latter. "Gonna open you up and pound you into the wall, and you're gonna stand there and take it like a good boy."

Barry's breath shudders a little on exhale, his cock throbbing with need. "Y-yes sir. Please. Please, _Mr. Queen."_

Barry sucks in a breath when leather clad hands pull his cheeks apart and one digit presses into him. He winces at the feeling. The drag of leather inside of him is unfamiliar, but it’s not unpleasant. It’s rough, especially when Oliver adds a second finger, but Barry loves it. It hurts, it really does. But it’s so _good_. Because it’s _Oliver_ and Barry knows that Oliver will always take care of him.  
  
_“Mr. Queen!”_ Barry yells when fingers brush against his prostate. It sends a tingle of pleasure throughout his entire body, and his fingers scratch against the wall in search for something to hold onto, but there’s nothing.

Barry moans in desire when Oliver presses against him again, finger still working him open. Teeth scrape against his shoulder, stinging when Oliver bites down, and he lets out a short hiss, but it feels so _good_ at the same time.

Oliver's fingers work him open rough and fast, and Barry presses his face into the wall, trying to muffle his groans, but not really succeeding - and, before he knows it, Oliver's fingers are withdrawing, and he feels empty.

He's not quite as open as he'd be if they weren't in a scene - and he knows that it's deliberate on Oliver's part. Now is not the time for careful prep, whispered encouragements and gentle thrusts - those are saved for when they're making love. Right now, Barry wants to feel the ache of his Dom fucking into him rough and hard, and he knows that Oliver is about to do just that.

"Keep your eyes on the wall," Oliver demands in a low growl, and Barry swallows thickly, trying not to let his knees buckle at the tone. _Fuck,_ he loves it. He loves it when Oliver gets all controlling like this - when he barks out commands and leaves Barry little choice but to follow his lead.

Barry lifts his head away from the wall and stares at it. His body thrums with excitement, _vibrates_ with anticipation for Oliver, and for what the older man has in store for him. He listens as Oliver moves around behind him – never moving too far away. He shivers when he hears the sound of Oliver’s zipper and more lube being squirted from the tube.

The next moment, Oliver’s hand is on his back – pushing him hard against the wall, and Barry feels Oliver nudging between his cheeks. Barry chokes back a yell when Oliver pushes in, not even giving him a chance to adjust. A string of high pitched whines leaves him as Oliver starts up a relentless pace inside of him, leather clad hands moving down to hold his hips with an almost bruising grip.

It stings, from the minimal prep. But it feels so fucking _good._

 _“Sir!_ nghhhh.” Barry whimpers.

Oliver lets out a low growl as he pounds into Barry at a punishing pace, and Barry emits broken sobs from the feeling of it all, breath hitching from every hard thrust that Oliver gives.

Fingers wrap into the strands of Barry's hair, tugging his head into an angle that gives Oliver more exposure to his neck, and Oliver begins to suck bruising marks into the flesh, still slamming into Barry as he goes.

"Oli- sir, _sir,_ p-please," Barry chokes, but he's not quite sure what he's even asking for anymore - because Oliver is giving him exactly what he needs, exactly how he needs it. He presses his forehead against the wall, biting down on his bottom lip, just riding the waves of pleasure as Oliver hammers into his prostate.

"How does it feel, Barry?" Oliver asks breathlessly.

"So good, s-sir, a-ah, M-Mr. Queen," Barry splutters, barely able to concentrate through the haze and the heat rising inside him. "S-so good."

Oliver grunts in response and continues littering Barry’s back and shoulders with bruises – biting and sucking every inch of skin he can reach – while slamming into Barry again and again. Barry bites down on his lip when Oliver changes his angle, each thrust now hitting his prostate every time.

Barry’s eyes slide shut as he tries to rut against the wall, seeking any kind of stimulation that he can get. It’s so frustrating. Oliver is giving so much, but at the same time it’s not enough. He sighs in pleasure from the – somewhat – relief that the wall give him.

The sting of a sharp slap on his ass makes him freeze, the sound echoing around them. “Want do you think you’re doing?” Oliver orders again, tugging roughly on Barry’s hair again.

“N-nothing, Mr. Queen.” Barry gasps out.

Oliver stops moving and pushes right up against Barry, dick still buried deep inside him. He reaches a hand around Barry’s body and squeezes the base of his sub’s dick – he can’t help but feel smug when Barry lets out a frustrated whimper. “You’re going to answer my question, Barry, or you won’t come tonight – or tomorrow.”

A whine escapes the back of Barry's throat at Oliver's words. He knows he means them, too. He's done it before - and Barry shudders at the thought. A whole week he'd gone without it - a whole week of desperately rutting against every surface, trying to gain enough friction, but Oliver always put a stop to it before he succeeded.

"Don't forget, Barry," Oliver grumbles, voice all low and heavy with warning. "I don't make empty threats."

Barry shudders, ducking his head submissively, trying to gather his thoughts, but it's so difficult - he's so drunk on _need_ and _want_ right now that his head is swirling.

He must be taking too long to answer, because Oliver tugs on his hair again, and Barry lets out a choked gasp.

"I- I- was trying t-to get friction," He gulps, "M-mr Queen."

"And why were you trying to do that, exactly?" Oliver growls, his breath hot on Barry's ear.

Barry clears his throat and steadies himself, tries to stop from shrinking in on himself long enough so that he can give Oliver a clear answer. "B-because I wanted to come. I'm sorry, _sir."_

Barry holds his breath, the silence stretching between them. He knows Oliver will punish him for misbehaving; Oliver’s a loving Dom, but he’s still strict. He keeps himself perfectly still as he stands there, staring at the wall and waiting for Oliver to speak to him.

“I think….” Oliver whispers into Barry’s ear, the calm and gruff tone of his voice sending a shiver down Barry’s spine. “That you need to be reminded about who exactly is in charge.”

Barry tries not to let his shoulders fall in disappointment when Oliver pulls out and steps away. “Yes, Mr. Queen.”

He licks his lips and keeps his eyes on the wall, waiting for Oliver to tell him what to do. Suddenly, hands grab his shoulders and spin him around. Barry gets a brief glimpse of Oliver’s blue eyes before Oliver is pushing him onto his knees. Barry, getting the hint, quickly drops to the floor.

“You know what to do.” Oliver commands, stepping up to Barry again.

Barry complies immediately, bringing his lips to Oliver's dick and taking the other man into his mouth without a second thought. He can feel Oliver's eyes on him, and his own eyes flicker up to meet them. Oliver watches him with an expression that's somehow both firm and loving, and Barry preens under the attention.

He pays special attention to the head at first, swiping at the slit with his tongue, and Oliver moans above him, bringing a hand to grasp into Barry's hair. And _god,_ Barry wants to touch himself so badly – the gasps and groans coming from Oliver's lips are driving him wild with desire, his own neglected cock straining between his legs.

Still, that's what got him into this in the first place. He'd already lost the feeling of Oliver's thickness inside him – leaving him empty and desperate for more. He can't test his Dom any further. He wants to come tonight, and he knows that if he pushes it, Oliver won't let him. He'll find a way to stop it – even if Barry were to try on his own.

Barry sinks his lips further, taking Oliver down as far as he can go, until he can feel Oliver's dick hit the back of his throat, and he feels a hand tighten in his hair, tugging at the strands a little as Oliver lets out a low groan.

The sharp tug causes Barry to emit a groan of his own, the vibrations he causes making Oliver tighten the grip on his hair further and moan obscenely. It’s when he hums around Oliver again that he gets the idea. Barry flicks his eyes up to meet Oliver’s again and, if weren’t for the dick in his mouth, he’d have a huge grin plastered on his face.

Barry blinks up at Oliver, making sure to make it as slow and sensual as possible – he _knows_ what his eyelashes do to Oliver. He hums around Oliver again and this time when he hums he vibrates his vocal chords.

Oliver’s reaction is instantaneous. He comes without warning – not that Barry is surprised – with a shout of “ _Barry!”_ And he tugs impossibly harder onto Barry’s hair as he pushes his hips against Barry’s face. Barry can’t help but feel satisfaction, as he swallows down everything Oliver gives him, at how fast he made Oliver orgasm.

“Good boy,” Oliver tells him once he's managed to compose himself enough, voice hoarse and breath coming out in short pants. He feels Oliver's fingers loosen their grip in his hair, but rather than removing them completely, he gives another short tug, and Barry gets the signal to scramble to his feet, watching his Dom with hopeful eyes.

Oliver seems to read the hopefulness in him, because before he knows it, Barry's back is being pushed against the wall, Oliver's lips on his own – attacking, claiming, as he holds onto Barry's face with a firm grip, swallowing Barry's whimpers.

Soon enough, Oliver turns his attention to Barry's neck, and one hand trails its way down his side until it's holding onto Barry's hip with an almost bruising grip, and he places his other palm in front of Barry's face. “Lick.”

He obeys immediately, ensuring to coat the palm as much as he can, and then the newly coated hand wraps around his dick, causing Barry's knees to buckle almost immediately as he lets out a stuttered gasp.

It doesn’t take long for Barry to climax – really just the feeling of Oliver’s hand on his dick is enough. Aside from the fact that Oliver knows _exactly_ what to do to make Barry come apart, Barry does… _suffer_ from a little problem of premature ejaculation. But he’s long past the point of being embarrassed about his body.

“ _Mr. Queen”_ Barry whines, and the familiar heat hits boiling point, causing Barry to spill his release over Oliver's hand with a shudder. He collapses into Oliver’s chest, his boyfriend’s loving arms immediately wrapping around him.

“I’ve got you.” Oliver whispers into his ear.

His breath comes in short, heavy pants, and Barry just folds himself into the heat of Oliver's body as he closes his eyes, letting himself relax under the gentle touch, awaiting Oliver's orders. In the back of his mind, he knows the scene is over. He knows that what they were aiming to achieve has been completed, but it usually takes him a little while to get back to grips with reality, and it usually involves Oliver guiding him through it.

Oliver pushes the strands of hair from Barry's forehead, soaked with sweat and skewed in all sorts of directions, and presses a long, drawn out kiss onto his temple. “Good boy,” Oliver tells him softly, raking his hand through Barry's hair. “Go clean yourself up. I'll bring you in something to wear for when you come out.”

He nods obediently, and makes his way to the bathroom almost mechanically. It's all a blur as he stands under the shower-head, allowing the water to drizzle over his face, and before he knows it, he's switching the water off, and he's watching the last of the droplets dripping down to a close as the haze in his head dampers slightly.

Oliver must have heard the shower shut off, because a rattle sounds out from the door as his boyfriend knocks softly, trying not to startle him. A small smile slips onto his face at the concern, but it really is unnecessary. While he's heard that people differ in their experiences of sub drop, it never really takes Barry _that_ long to get himself back to grips with reality. Having a Dom that knows what he's doing, and that cares for him deeply probably helps.

“Come in,” Barry calls out, anyway, knowing that Oliver won't enter unless he does.

“I brought your clothes.” Oliver says from the doorway.

Barry steps out of the shower and dries himself off. He smiles warmly and takes the sweatpants, Star Labs sweatshirt and fresh boxer briefs from his boyfriend. “Thanks, Oliver.”

Oliver watches as Barry pulls the clothing on, eyes tracking along Barry’s long legs and jumping up to his torso. He brings his eyes up to meet Barry’s, the green eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Are you okay?”

“Never better.” Barry answers, pushing himself into Oliver’s arms.

“Good. Let's get you to bed. You did great today, baby. I'm so proud of you.”

Barry lets out a happy sigh, allowing Oliver to slip his hand into his own and guide them to their shared bedroom, wrapping himself into Oliver's heat as the other man holds him, nuzzling his nose against his neck.

Before he drifts off, he feels the press of a soft kiss being placed on his cheek, and a whisper of, “Love you, Barr. So much.”

Barry can do nothing but hum happily in reply, and he's pretty sure he hears Oliver chuckle as he allows the fatigue to carry him to sleep.


End file.
